Over the last few weeks, we have navigated two very different maps of the mind: Daniel Dennett’s world, where consciousness is an evolutionary user-illusion, and David Chalmers’ Hard Problem, which suggests a universe split between physical facts and mental properties.

However, as we move deeper into the mystery, we encounter a thinker who suggests that both are working with a faulty definition of the world. Galen Strawson is a Real Physicalist. He doesn’t believe in ghosts or souls, but he has arrived at a conclusion that flips our understanding of reality: If physicalism is true, then matter itself must be conscious.

The Realization: Not on the Same Team

I’ll be honest: when I first started reading Chalmers and Strawson, I was convinced they were on the same team. Both argue that subjective experience is a fundamental part of the universe. I had them both labeled as Property Dualists, assuming they both believed that in addition to physical properties like mass, mental properties also exist. They both stood in opposition to Dennett, who views those mental properties as an illusion.

But Strawson and Chalmers are actually in a heated debate. Strawson is a vocal critic of Dualism. He believes that if physicalism is true, we shouldn’t be adding extra layers to the world; we should be redefining what physical means from the ground up.

The Myth of Dead Matter

Strawson’s starting point is an attack on what he calls PhysicSalism—the common assumption that physical stuff is exactly and only what we see in a high school physics textbook: mathematical points and dead billiard balls clacking in a void. Most of us assume that matter is inherently non-conscious “gray meat” that somehow begins to feel once sparked with electricity.

Strawson argues that we actually have no idea what the intrinsic nature of matter is. Physics is brilliant at telling us how an electron behaves—its mass, charge, and spin—but it is silent on what the electron is in and of itself.

The Detective Story: The Silence of Physics

Physics is like a world-class detective who has found the fingerprints of matter but has never actually seen the culprit. Think of a game of chess. Physics is the grandmaster who has mapped every rule of the game. He can tell you exactly how the Knight moves, but if you ask what the pieces are actually made of—wood, plastic, or pure energy—the rules are silent.

Physics describes matter using dispositions—what it does to other things. But matter cannot just be a set of behaviors; there must be something doing the behaving. The physicist Arthur Eddington famously agreed, noting that physics is mathematical not because we know so much about the physical world, but because we know so little. We know its mathematical structure, but we are silent on its inner nature. Strawson’s genius is realizing that because physics is silent about the internal nature of matter, it has no right to claim that matter is dead.

The Law of No-Emergence: Something from Nothing?

In science, we see emergence all the time, like liquidity. But liquidity is just a new way for molecules to behave in space. Strawson’s No-Emergence argument states that it is logically impossible for feeling to emerge from non-feeling stuff. You can’t get wetness if you don’t have molecules, and you can’t get redness if the building blocks of the universe are void of experiential quality.

If there is no experience in the fundamental constituents of the universe, Strawson argues, then no amount of complex arrangement can ever bring it into being. If you want a conscious brain, you must start with conscious building blocks. Otherwise, consciousness is a miracle—something appearing out of thin air once matter gets complex enough.

How to Build a Subject: Strawson vs. Chalmers

If both men agree that an electron might be conscious, how do they view the Subject differently? For David Chalmers, the subject is a Result. He looks at the world through the lens of Information and Psychophysical Laws. In his view, matter carries information, and when processed a certain way, the laws of the universe switch on the light of experience. To Chalmers, the electron carries raw data that, under the right laws, becomes a subject. The subject is the result of an equation.

For Galen Strawson, the subject is a Nature. He thinks Chalmers’ idea of laws switching on a light is still too close to magic. He argues that you don’t need a law to turn matter into a subject because matter is a subject. The electron doesn’t carry information that then becomes a subject; the electron is a tiny, primitive subject of experience. The glow is what the electron is made of. The subject is the fundamental reality of the physical world.

The Conscious Electron: A Tale of Two Panpsychisms

While Strawson insists consciousness is the nature of matter, Chalmers is more interested in the laws connecting matter to mind. Chalmers flirted with the idea that electrons might have a flicker of experience, but for him, it’s Matter + Laws = Mind. Strawson thinks this is a dualist myth. He believes the electron’s consciousness is its very identity. For him, it’s Matter = Mind.

The Subtle Divide: The Plus vs. The Is

It comes down to how you define Matter. Chalmers takes the Plus View (Property Dualism). He accepts the standard definition of matter as dead, so if the universe is conscious, it must be because there are extra properties—physical properties plus mental properties.

Strawson takes the Is View (Real Physicalism). He thinks adding extra laws is an unnecessary complication. We don’t need extra properties because we’ve been wrong about the physical ones all along. The mental property is the physical property. For Strawson, the insideness of an atom is its experience.

Why Philosophical Zombies Are Impossible

This distinction explains why Strawson thinks Chalmers’ Philosophical Zombie argument is flawed. To Chalmers, a Zombie is possible because you could imagine a world where the matter is the same, but God forgot the consciousness laws. The hardware is there, but the software isn’t running.

To Strawson, a Zombie is a contradiction. If you have the matter, you already have the experience. They are the same thing. Asking for a physical brain without consciousness is like asking for a circle that isn’t round. If you built a perfect physical duplicate of a human, that being would have to be conscious, because consciousness is what those atoms are.

The Science of the Inside

Strawson looks at the only piece of matter whose internal nature we actually know: the human brain. When a neuroscientist looks at a brain, they see the outside—the firing neurons. But because you are a brain, you see it from the inside as a symphony of colors and thoughts. Strawson suggests that consciousness is what the inside of matter looks like. There is no mystery of how the brain produces the mind because they are just two ways of describing the same physical event. Experience is the physical reality of the brain experienced from the first-person perspective.

Evolution: Organizing the Wakefulness

In Strawson’s view, evolution didn’t produce consciousness as a new feature. Instead, it organized pre-existing, conscious building blocks into complex structures. We didn’t evolve a mind; we are matter that has become complex enough to have a unified perspective. Consciousness was there from the Big Bang; evolution just gave it a voice.

Conclusion: A Foundation of Experience

While Chalmers is adding a new floor to the house of science to make room for the mind, Strawson is telling us that the mind was already part of the foundation. Strawson doesn’t make the mind a miracle; he makes matter extraordinary. He allows us to keep the rigor of physical science without having to deny the reality of our own inner lives. By redefining matter as inherently experiential, Strawson offers a version of physicalism that is actually real.

But what if even Real Physicalism isn’t enough? What if the mind isn’t just a part of matter, but a separate substance that exists alongside it? Next week, we’ll step away from the physicalist camp entirely to look at the modern defenders of Substance Dualism—the thinkers who believe the ghost in the machine is very real, and very separate.

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Deepen Your Journey: Suggested Reading

If Strawson’s argument for Real Physicalism has sparked your curiosity, these resources are the best places to start. Please note that the links below are affiliate links; if you choose to purchase through them, I earn a small commission from Amazon at no extra cost to you, which helps support the continued research and writing of this series.

• Real Materialism by Galen Strawson: This is the definitive collection of Strawson’s essays. It’s dense, but it is the most complete defense of the idea that a truly physicalist world must be a conscious one.
• The Consciousness Paradox by Galen Strawson: A more accessible entry point for those interested in his specific critique of why we misunderstand the word physical.
• Things That Bother Me: Death, Freedom, the Self, Etc. by Galen Strawson: A collection of more personal and accessible essays. It’s a great way to get a feel for his writing style and his broader views on the self and experience.
• The Character of Consciousness by David Chalmers: To truly understand the rivalry discussed today, you have to read the other side. This is Chalmers’ masterpiece on why he believes extra laws are necessary to explain the mind.

The Morning After Dennett

In my last post, we explored Daniel Dennett’s world—a world where we are complex biological robots. In Dennett’s view, consciousness is essentially a biological computer running a sophisticated program. When you smell coffee or feel a breeze, your brain is simply executing “sub-routines” of data collection, self-monitoring, and linguistic reporting. To Dennett, once you’ve explained how the program runs, you’ve explained the mind. There is no “hidden magic” left over.

It’s a clean, scientific, and intellectually tidy view. But for many of us, it leaves a lingering, cold aftertaste. It feels like a “morning after” hangover where you realize that while Dennett has explained how the software works, he has ignored the most obvious fact of your life: The fact that it feels like something to be the computer. In 1994, at a conference in Tucson, Arizona, a young, long-haired Australian philosopher named David Chalmers walked into this functionalist factory and asked the question that would halt the Materialist parade: “If we are just programs, why does the program have to ‘feel’ like anything at all on the inside?”

The Great Divide: Easy vs. Hard

To understand the power of Chalmers’ insight, you have to understand his most famous distinction. He argued that when we talk about “consciousness,” we are actually talking about two very different things.

The “Easy” Problems These are the questions that occupy 99% of neuroscientists. How does the brain integrate information from the eyes? How do we categorize objects? How do we react to a loud noise? Chalmers calls these “easy” not because they are simple, but because we have a functional roadmap for them. In science, if you can explain how a system functions, you have explained the system. There is no “digestion-stuff” left over once you explain the stomach; there is no “weather-stuff” left over once you explain the atmosphere.

The Hard Problem The “Hard Problem” is the outlier. It is the question of Subjective Experience. When you look at a red apple, your brain processes light waves and triggers certain neurons. That is the “easy” part. But then, there is the redness of the red. There is the undeniable fact that it “feels like something” to be you in that moment.

Chalmers’ point is devastatingly simple: You could explain every physical vibration, every chemical spike, and every neural loop in the brain, and you would still have a glaring hole in your theory. You still haven’t explained why those physical movements are accompanied by a subjective “glow.”

The Anatomy of the Philosophical Zombie

To prove that the physical world and the mental world are not the same thing, Chalmers resurrected and modernized a classic thought experiment that had been gathering dust in the archives of philosophy: The Philosophical Zombie.

Imagine a being that is a perfect physical duplicate of you. It has your DNA, your brain structure, and your habit of squinting when it’s sunny. If you ask it how it feels, it says, “I feel great!” Because it is a biological robot running a sophisticated program, it reacts exactly as you would. If you prick it with a needle, it yelps “Ouch!” and pulls its arm away because its “threat-detection neurons” fired.

But there is a catch: Inside this creature, the lights are off. There is no “inner life.” It is a biological machine perfectly simulating a human being, but with zero subjective experience. It doesn’t feel the needle; it just processes the signal and moves the muscle.

The Ultimate Question: Why aren’t we Zombies? This is what truly “woke up” Chalmers. He realized that from an evolutionary or physicalist standpoint, we should have been zombies. A Zombie-you would survive just as well as the real you. Evolution only cares about what you do, not how it feels while you are doing it.

So why did the universe “turn the lights on”? If the physical machinery works perfectly fine in the dark, why is there a subjective “you” along for the ride? The fact that we actually experience our lives—the joy of a sunset, the sting of a needle—suggests that consciousness isn’t just a byproduct of survival; it is a fundamental fact that science cannot ignore.

The Structural Gap

The weight of Chalmers’ argument lies in a logical trap he calls the “Structural Gap.” He points out that all of physics is a description of structure and dynamics—how things move and interact. If you explain the structure of a car, you’ve explained the car.

But consciousness isn’t a structure or a movement. It is a state of being. You can map the “structure” of a brain forever, but you are effectively describing the map while ignoring the territory of the felt experience. For Chalmers, this means our current science isn’t just “missing a few details”—it is using the wrong language entirely. Physics describes things from the outside, but consciousness is the inside. You cannot logically arrive at an “inside” simply by rearranging “outsides.”

The Solution: Naturalistic Dualism

So, if consciousness isn’t just “meat processing,” where does it come from? Chalmers is a man of science, so he doesn’t want to rely on supernatural souls. Instead, he proposes Naturalistic Dualism. To understand this, consider Isaac Newton. When he proposed “Gravity,” critics called him a mystic. They asked, “How can two planets pull on each other through empty space without touching?” Newton didn’t have a “physical” mechanism; he just accepted that gravity was a fundamental force.

Chalmers is doing the same thing for the mind. He believes there are Psychophysical Laws—nature’s own “bridge” that dictates: “When you have this specific physical information structure, you get this specific mental experience.” It’s not magic; it’s just a law of the universe we haven’t mapped yet. By treating consciousness as a fundamental pillar of reality—just like mass or charge—Chalmers provides the first framework that actually respects the data of our own lives.

The “Wild” Conclusion: Panpsychism

If consciousness is a fundamental building block—like gravity—it shouldn’t just magically appear for the first time when a human brain gets big enough. It should be there, in some form, at the very bottom of reality. This leads Chalmers to a conclusion that even he admitted was “wild”: Even electrons might have a tiny spark of consciousness.

It is important to be precise here. Chalmers does not think electrons are “thinking,” having conversations, or feeling “sad.” He distinguishes between Sapience (complex thought/emotions) and Proto-Consciousness (the raw “light” of experience).

• Human Consciousness: A high-definition IMAX movie where the pixels are so tightly integrated they form a seamless, meaningful reality.
• Electron Consciousness: A single, tiny pixel flickering in the dark. It doesn’t have a “story,” but it has the primitive property of being “lit.”

He proposes a Double-Aspect Theory of Information. He suggests that Information is the ultimate substance of the universe, and it has two sides: the Outside (what it does physically—the “program”) and the Inside (what it feels like—the “glow”). If an electron processes even a tiny bit of “information” about its environment, it has a tiny bit of “inside.”

The Reality of the Internal World

By placing consciousness at the center of his theory, Chalmers has achieved something historic. He has validated the fact that your inner life is the most real thing you possess. In a world of “biological robots,” he has given us back our humanity by proving that our experience isn’t a “trick” or a “user illusion”—it is a fundamental property of the cosmos.

He has moved consciousness from a “byproduct” to a “fundamental pillar.” He has shown that to understand the universe, we cannot just look through a telescope or a microscope; we have to account for the fact that there is someone looking through them in the first place. Chalmers has finally given the “glow” of existence the scientific status it deserves.

Conclusion

Chalmers’ view of the universe is one where the lights are always on. It is a world where information isn’t just dead data, but carries the potential for feeling and experience from the smallest atom to the largest brain. It is a rigorous, logical, and deeply satisfying answer to the most difficult question in science.

In my next post, we will keep this journey going. We’ve seen the world as a machine (Dennett), and we’ve seen it as a fundamental duality (Chalmers). But what if there’s a third way? Next week, we’ll meet Galen Strawson, the “Realistic Monist,” who takes everything Chalmers has taught us and uses it to redefine the very meaning of “matter” itself.

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The Consciousness Library: Further Reading

Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you choose to pick up any of these books through the links provided, it helps support the blog and keeps these deep-dives coming!

If you want to move beyond the blog post and engage with these ideas at their source, these five books are the essential starting points:

• 1. The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory by David Chalmers (1996) This is the “Bible” of the Hard Problem. Chalmers lays out the Zombie argument and the “Easy vs. Hard” distinction with the clarity of a mathematician. If you want to see the “Master Draft” of the theory we just discussed, this is it.
• 2. Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy by David Chalmers (2022) Chalmers’ latest work applies his theories to the digital age. He explores whether a computer simulation could ever truly be “conscious” and argues that virtual reality is just as “real” as physical reality.
• 3. Consciousness Explained by Daniel Dennett (1991) To understand why Chalmers is such a radical, you have to read his greatest rival. Dennett argues that there is no “Hard Problem”—only a series of “Easy Problems” that we haven’t solved yet.
• 4. Galileo’s Error: Foundations for a New Science of Consciousness by Philip Goff (2019) A brilliant, accessible defense of Panpsychism. Goff explains how the scientific revolution intentionally set consciousness aside to make progress in physics, and why we now need to bring it back into the fold.
• 5. The Hidden Spring: A Journey to the Source of Consciousness by Mark Solms (2021) A neuropsychologist’s take on the Hard Problem. Solms agrees with Chalmers that “data processing” doesn’t explain “feeling,” and he searches for the biological source of that “glow” in the deep structures of the brain.

We have been exploring Process Philosophy and its theological application, Process Theology (PT). In PT, there is a God who is responsible for the existence of everything, but in a way that is fundamentally different from what many traditional Christians believe. The Process God acts through persuasion, not coercion, serving as a co-creator whose influence works within the intrinsic freedom of the universe itself. This view means God didn’t force the world to be the way it is.

We confront the work of philosopher Daniel Dennett. If Dennett is right, there is no God, and the universe consists only of physical substances and physical properties. This leads to a profound question: If we are merely physical machines, how is it that humans are conscious, subjective beings? Dennett’s theory is designed to answer this by showing that consciousness is not a deep mystery requiring a soul or special mental properties, but an evolutionary trick. Dennett often calls himself an Illusionist, a term that is frequently misinterpreted. He is not arguing that consciousness is unreal or that subjective experiences don’t exist; rather, he is demonstrating that the widely held belief that these experiences must be philosophically irreducible to physical mechanisms is the profound illusion.

The Cartesian Intuition: The Historical Problem

Dennett recognizes that his work must begin by confronting the powerful, intuitive beliefs nearly all people share about consciousness. This feeling—that we are a separate, immaterial core observing the world from inside our head—is the Cartesian intuition.

This intuition is rooted in Substance Dualism, the historical idea that the mind (the immaterial, non-physical soul) and the body (physical matter) are two fundamentally different substances. While this view has largely been dismissed by neuroscience, the powerful feeling of a centralized observer persists. Dennett’s task is to dismantle this illusion and show that the feeling itself is merely a convincing trick.

However, Dennett’s primary debate is not with this older, historical error. His major project is dedicated to confronting the modern, sophisticated defense of mind/body separation championed by contemporary philosophers.

Part I: The Materialist Mandate and the Attack on Property Dualism

Dennett is an unapologetic materialist. For him, all phenomena, including the mind, must be explained using the physical laws of nature, neuroscience, and—crucially—Darwinian evolution.

A key strength of Dennett’s functional approach is its independence from specific biology. For Dennett, consciousness is a form of highly sophisticated information processing—an evolved algorithm—which means it is not substrate-dependent. The human brain, being carbon-based, is simply the first system we know of to run this “software.” Dennett would readily agree that consciousness could evolve on a world with completely different biology (silicon, plasma, etc.), provided the substrate allows for the requisite complexity, storage, and parallel processing.

This commitment requires Dennett to confront Property Dualism, a widely defended contemporary position. Property Dualists, such as David Chalmers, concede that the brain is entirely physical (rejecting Substance Dualism), but they maintain that the brain generates unique, non-physical properties known as qualia (the subjective, raw feeling of “redness” or “pain”). They argue that no physical description can logically account for the existence of subjective experience, pointing to the Explanatory Gap.

Dennett’s counter-argument is that the belief in irreducible qualia is a profound mistake. He views the claim that these subjective qualities cannot be logically reduced to objective physical properties as an intellectual surrender—a willingness to accept a permanent, irreducible mystery. He believes that to claim qualia are irreducible is simply to say, “We don’t know how that happens, and it’s fundamentally unexplainable by the methods of science.” The specific illusion he targets is the belief that our first-person experiences are fundamentally irreducible to physical, functional processes.

Clarifying “Batness”: Dennett agrees with Thomas Nagel that there is “something it is like to be a bat,” but he denies that this “batness” is a magical, inaccessible truth. The bat’s consciousness is a different physical phenomenon—a chaotic, constantly updated stream of sensory data. The illusion he is dispelling is the powerful, but mistaken, interpretation that this feeling requires a special, non-physical property.

Part II: The Mechanics: Drafts, Minions, and Competence

If there is no central stage where decisions are made, how does the brain work? Dennett’s theory relies on two core mechanical concepts:

1. The Multiple Drafts Model

Dennett suggests the brain is not a theater but the chaotic, parallel editorial room of a giant news agency.

Every sensation, memory, and decision is written down simultaneously by different processes (different brain regions). These reports are constantly being edited, revised, and rewritten—these are the “multiple drafts.” There is no single finish line where a report is stamped “FINAL” and declared conscious. Consciousness is simply the result of these competing narratives being utilized by other systems in the brain.

2. Competence without Comprehension

Dennett answers the question of how complex tasks are performed by non-conscious parts of the brain with the principle of competence without comprehension.

The brain is full of billions of “minions”—simple, mindless processes—that are incredibly good at specific jobs, but never need to comprehend the big picture. This principle allows Dennett to explain how the high-level illusion of consciousness can be built using only ground-level, algorithmic “cranes,” rather than resorting to magical “skyhooks” (non-physical properties) to bridge the gap between matter and mind.

Part III: The Functional Self and Free Will

If the brain is just a chaotic committee of drafts and minions, why does it feel so powerfully unified, and who is responsible for its actions?

Dennett argues that the solution is functional: we must adopt the Intentional Stance toward ourselves—treating a complex system as if it had beliefs and intentions, even if we know those terms are shorthand for physical processes.

This leads directly to the core concept of the self: the Center of Narrative Gravity. The self is an abstract fictional point around which all the stories, memories, decisions, and actions of the brain cohere.

The Dennettian View of Freedom

Dennett is a compatibilist, arguing that free will and determinism are, in fact, compatible. He redefines free will functionally and ethically:

We are “free” not because we violate causality, but because we are highly evolved systems that possess the capacity for reflection and adaptation. Freedom, for Dennett, is not a supernatural property; it is a skill and a social status conferred upon the most sophisticated, reflective mechanisms.

Part IV: The Memetic Self and the Cultural Leap

To create the unified Center of Narrative Gravity (the “I”), the brain needs the tools of culture, primarily memes. Dennett adopts the term meme (a unit of cultural transmission) to explain how human consciousness evolved beyond mere biological capacity.

The unique aspect of human consciousness—the ability to think about thinking—is largely a result of the brain being infected by linguistic memes. The brain provides the hardware, but language provides the powerful software that can run a linear, internal narration on the brain’s naturally parallel architecture.

• The Self is the protagonist of this internal narrative. This story is built out of social and moral concepts (memes).
• The continued use of the pronoun “I” in conversation and thought reinforces and stabilizes the chaotic “multiple drafts,” creating the coherent illusion of the Cartesian Self.

This sophisticated narrative capacity provides the basis for moral responsibility. We don’t hold the soul responsible; we hold the narrative-creating system responsible. By holding individuals accountable, society is providing a high-level feedback mechanism to modify the programming of that self-editing, narrative system.

Conclusion

Dennett asks us to abandon our intuitive idea of the soul and embrace a profound biological humility. We are not spirits piloting biological machines; we are the biological machine’s self-description—the most convincing magic trick in the universe.

The self is real, but only as a narrative structure and a social agent. By understanding this illusion, Dennett provides a way forward, ensuring that our concept of consciousness and freedom remains firmly rooted in the physical, evolutionary world, free from the necessity of special non-physical properties.

If we think of the brain as sophisticated computer hardware running the software of consciousness, the illusion becomes clear. The software creates a beautiful, unified user interface (the Ego) that hides the chaotic complexity of the billions of lines of code (the Multiple Drafts and Minions) running underneath. Our feeling that our experience is irreducible is simply the phenomenal experience of that elegant user interface, leading us to mistake a functional achievement for a magical, non-physical truth.

📚 Recommended Reading on Consciousness and the Mind

Disclosure: Please note that some of the links below are Amazon Associate links, and I will earn a commission from qualifying purchases made through these links. This commission comes at no extra cost to you. I recommend these books because I believe they are truly helpful and valuable, not because of the small commissions I may receive. Your support helps keep this site running.

If you are intrigued by Dennett’s materialist explanation of consciousness and wish to explore the major arguments for and against his position, the following texts are highly recommended for delving deeper into this philosophical and neuroscientific system:

• Dennett, Daniel C. Bacteria to Bach and Back: The Evolution of Minds Dennett’s definitive and most recent book, presenting his complete theory of how the evolutionary process, driven by natural selection and cultural memes, constructs the human mind without relying on any magical or spiritual component.
• Chalmers, David J. The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory The essential counter-argument to Dennett. Chalmers argues that subjective experience (qualia) is a non-physical, irreducible property that constitutes “The Hard Problem,” which materialism cannot solve.
• Dennett, Daniel C. Consciousness Explained Dennett’s classic 1991 work, where he first introduced the revolutionary Multiple Drafts Model and first systematically attempted to dismantle the popular concept of the Cartesian Theater (the central viewing screen in the brain).
• Searle, John R. The Mystery of Consciousness A brief but powerful critique from a rival materialist. Searle argues that while consciousness is entirely biological (a physical feature of the brain), Dennett’s “Illusionism” mistakenly explains away the real, intrinsic quality of subjective experience.
• Seth, Anil. Being You: A New Science of Consciousness A contemporary neuroscientist’s approach to the topic, supporting the functionalist view. Seth argues that consciousness is best understood as a “controlled hallucination”—the brain’s predictive, best-guess model of the world and the self.